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pointed toothpick spires—sharp enough for birds to get
impaled upon them. On one leaf of the ancient open door
is carved an old-time knight in armor in deep relief—on
the other a bishop. In the roomy vestibule are life-sized
statues of six saints in niches, with their names labeled
underneath them—St. Peter is one of them and has his
golden key. One is labeled S. Clemens—just my name,
just my initial. It was a proud thing to find an ancestor
in such a place and in such company. Still, there have
always been saints in our family. If I had my rights there
would be one now. This one had on a helmet, probably
used to be on the police force before he got promoted.
All around the church extends the churchyard; and it
was noticeable that there were flowers on graves fifty
years old. A quiet reposeful place, the shrubbery well
tended.

Switzerland

Sunday, July 18, '97. Took up residence in Villa Buh-
legg, Weggis.—with Sue, Julie Langdon and Ernst—seven
persons. Terms frs 6 ($1.20) per day, per person, rent
and food included, also candles and two lamps; and frs
14 extra per week to have the meals brought up and
served in the house.

This trustful frau would not take pay for our five din-
ners yesterday, but said that it would go in the pension
bill, in case we concluded to take the house; and so she
let us go back to Lucerne ignorant of our names and
address.

Swiss Thoroughness

The pharmacist took half an hour to mix one part
litharge and two parts lard—got the proportions reversed
twice and had to make the salve three times. Today, this
one took as long, then took five minutes to coax the last

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